Am I an object?

From the beginning of time, women were seen as objects, not capable of owing properties, owning their lives, and shifted from being daughters to wives.

Our virginity was and is treasured as the crown jewel of a beautiful necklace. Are we any better than that, in the patriarchal society?

Are we humans, we dare ask?

I am never let to forget, that I am a woman, an object for the eyes of the male gaze.

Woman/girl: A beautiful, attractive, shiny object. Whatever they do or be, they get reduced to that.

Here is a short story on how a woman became an object:

(POV, every woman ever)

Yesterday, I was on a house hunt, and was surrounded by only men. A fact, I forgot all about, until I was forced to remember it.

Scene: Two people, conversing and one of them in between the conversation starts to ogle at the other and checking them out from head to toe, stopping briefly after the neck (oh, the dreaded word: BOOBS) and then moving along the shiny object.

No points for guessing the genders.

At that time, I had a thought, "what led to this person do that, out of nowhere, between a civil conversation? I have dressed appropriately, I have not suggested anything that might lead to this feeling in the other person, then why?"

And then the enlightenment came along almost immediately.

"Aaaahh, I am an object and will always remain one in some men's eyes or all?)"

And that was how I was reduced from being a tenant talking to a potential landlord to being an object, a.k.a a woman.

The end.

-Story by every woman ever.

To know more about how women are treated as objects, click on the link below.

Trigger Warning

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